


To Betray a Lie

by Linorien



Series: Q-branch Chronicles [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Andromeda and A are back from my other fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linorien/pseuds/Linorien
Summary: It's Bond's turn in the surveillance of Mr. Thomas Kellinger, just your average billionaire who supports anti-terrorist organizations with his money. Or not. As Bond digs a little deeper, he also runs into a past partner who can provide valuable help, even if she is a civilian. And oh yeah, there's laser tag.





	1. A Constellation Rises

**Author's Note:**

> You do not need to read the previous fic to follow this one, but if you would like, it is [Double Bluff](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4163202), or story 3 in Q-Branch Chronicles.

 [](http://imgur.com/z5HlHgG)

Mind what people do, not only what they say, for deeds will betray a lie. - _Soul of the Fire_ , Chapter 28, page 205

* * *

Surveillance, Bond thinks, is worse than sitting alone in his flat. He wonders if this is M’s way of telling the double-ohs that taking the time between missions to complete paperwork is not the worst thing they would be doing. It would be the sort of plan Q came up with.

But it could be worse. It could be in Russia. Instead he was camping out in a hotel room in France. Cameras were trained on the penthouse suite of billionaire Thomas Kellinger. He had boxes of garbage picked receipts in front of him.

“Three, you are a bastard,” he muttered.

“Come again?” his handler in Q branch asked. Bond had the feeling he was dozing.

“It’s nothing,” he replied.

“Oh, you found the box 003 left for you,” Art said. “He said you might hate him for that. He asked me to remind you that at least you were not the one in the dumpster.”

“Oh poor him,” Bond grumbled, but he opened the box anyways, putting on latex gloves first, and began to sort through.

Twenty minutes in and he could see why Q was pressuring everyone to go digital or shred everything. Bond knew he had above average detective skills, but even a primary school child could map out Mr. Kellinger’s route for the last two weeks. Not to mention the inclusion of a past credit card statement would make it incredibly easy to hack into his account or just use it to pay off your own loans.

One transaction in particular caught Bond’s eye. He looked back at the notes the other double-ohs had left during their shifts. Every Thursday. Not enough for the rotating surveillance to notice, but they ought to have known better.

“Art, I need you to look something up for me.”

“Go ahead.”

“Katherine’s Laser Tag Arena in Montreuil.” He heard typing over the line. The other receipts would be long gone, buried in landfills somewhere or already halfway through the recycling process. If there was sufficient cause, perhaps one of the minions could hack his bank account to verify this hunch.

“I’ve got it. Am I looking for something in particular?” Art asked.

“From a cursory look, nothing looks suspicious, does it? Just an ordinary place?” Bond scribbled his hunch in the log book and paper clipped in the relevant receipts.

“Not at all. Looks kinda fun, really.”

“Please transfer me to Q.”

“Sir, he is busy at the moment. I can pass along a message.”

Bond bit back a sigh. It was possible that the quartermaster was busy. But it was equally as likely that his staff was covering for him and trying to get him to sleep before he had to run 003’s mission in Qatar. “He has half an hour to get on the line or you will be held responsible for whatever inadvisable thing I will inevitably do.”

 

 

“How did you come to this conclusion?” Q asked when he finished his first draft of budget requests for the next year. He was not in a hyperfocused mindset as usual and he was having trouble following Bond’s logic.

“It’s a little laser tag arena, nothing like the nice one you set up for us,” Bond began. He was walking through the cobblestone streets while he talked. “People like Mr. Kellinger do not go to places like this. Trust me, upper class society cares a lot about appearances. No one with that much money would be caught dead in an establishment that did not cost at least an average man’s monthly wage for admittance if not strictly necessary. There must be a damn good reason why he is here every week.”

“That is ridiculous, but good logic. Alright. What do you need then?”

“Schematics of the building. Background on the owners. The usual. I’m going to investigate on the ground.” He stopped across the street from the arena.

“You mean you are going to enjoy a game of laser tag?” Q asked, already pulling up various search windows. “Without me?”

Bond smiled. “It’s not really without you if I have you in my ear the whole time.”

Q only rolled his eyes in response. By Bond’s own logic, the agent had probably never been inside a normal laser tag arena either. He was looking forward to the complaints. Now maybe he would stop pestering Q about the moon being too bright when they played outside.

He listened while Bond paid his admittance fee. Then he went over to the touchscreen to enter in his player name. Q suggested Silvereye. Bond typed it in.  

“I still can’t believe you made me use that name when you got to use your own,” Bond said quietly.

“And which one of us has erased their entire identity and only goes by a letter not chosen by them?” Q asked. Bond conceded that point.

“Agent Silvereye?” a voice asked. Bond turned to find a woman who was surprisingly familiar. “It is you. I wasn’t sure until you typed in your name, but even then it might have been a coincidence.”

“Andromeda, wasn’t it?” Bond asked.

“Yes, although I am called Jane.”

“I think I will stick with Andromeda. It fits you.” Bond and her shook hands. “What are you doing here? I thought you were a school teacher in Ireland?”

“I volunteered to escort a foreign exchange student to Newcastle before the term starts. I have a few friends here so I came a little early. And you?” Bond made to answer, but the announcement for the beginning of a game interrupted them. “Partners?” she asked.

Bond glanced at the screen and found her name. They were on the same team. He agreed and they both grabbed a backpack. Already Bond wanted to moan about the weight of the pack and the necessary cords attached to the gun.

Then the doors opened and both teams ran in. He tells her to split up and scope it out first, see if there are good defense points. She agrees and sets off on a jog to his right.

“Q,” Bond said as soon as she left. “It is way too bright in here. How is this even a challenge?” All around him, there were glow in the dark paintings of planets and stars and aliens. Every one of the backpacks had LED lights that shone bright with the team colour. Even the black lights above them were brighter than normal and Bond was disappointed.

“If you don’t think it is a challenge, I expect you to get the top score,” Q replied, keeping the smile out of his voice. “Start shooting.” Q wished he had video as he heard Bond discover how poor the aim was on the laser tag guns. A minute later he could faintly hear Andromeda showing him which parts of the body scored points and reprimanding him for trying to shoot the forehead.

Andromeda tried to demonstrate and Bond was impressed as he heard her score go up with every successful hit. He mostly felt the slight vibration as he kept getting hit from behind. His competitive edge kicked in. He identified the best defensive spot and crouched down, using the mirrors to hit unsuspecting people. Even then, the guns had poor aim and often misfired. He growled in frustration.

But before too long, the announcer called for the end of the game and his gun stopped firing. Him and Andromeda stood up. He shook his head at her huge smile. “Let’s go see how you did for your first time.”

They filed out the doors, making way for the next set of teams, and waited for their scores to show up. Andromeda read them off and Q turned up his volume slightly. He had to slam the mute button as he heard that Bond was in last place. He couldn’t help his laughter. And the laughter of rest of his branch who were eavesdropping.

“Congratulations,” Bond said. Andromeda had punched the air in victory at her top score.

“Better luck next time, Silvereye,” she said. “You just need to work on your aim.”

“My aim is perfectly fine,” he muttered. “It’s these darn guns. No aim. And it’s way too bright for any good fun. And how do you sneak up on people if you are all glowing brighter than a Christmas tree in Covent Garden?”

They hung up their packs. “I will pass on your suggestions to the owner,” she laughed. “Maybe she can do something about the ambient light, but health and safety dictate some standards.”

“You know the owner?”

Andromeda met his serious expression and smirked. “I thought there might be some purpose behind you being here. No one else shows up to laser tag in a suit.”

“You know the owner?” Bond asked again, ignoring her dig.

”We went to a summer camp together ages ago. Kept in touch online ever since.”

“Can you take me to him?” Bond asked. “There are some things I need to ask.”

“Her,” Andromeda corrected. “And sure. Let me just grab my bag from the locker. She’s probably in the back office.” She was quiet for another minute. “What’s this about anyways? She’s not in any trouble, is she?”

Bond wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t promise anything. Obviously he couldn’t tell her his real purpose. “I had some vacation days and decided to do another spy game,” he lied. After all, it worked as a cover for a mission last time.

She cocked her head to the side. “I wasn’t aware they had an office in France.”

“I asked if they had any missions that could be completed abroad. They said they were running trial runs of larger missions and I could help them test it if I was willing.”

Andromeda asked a manager to tell Katherine that Jane was here. “What’s the mission?”

“Standard surveillance and completing a profile on a target. It’s still in the planning stages though so I am giving them feedback as I go.”

“Sounds interesting. Would you,” she paused. “Can I be your partner for the mission? I still have another two days to enjoy the city before I need to meet the family of my student.”

Bond said nothing. Q heard the unspoken question. “I trust you would be able to lose her if it became too dangerous. She does help you with this connection. Ask her if she has a bluetooth.”

“Do you have a bluetooth?” Bond asked.

“Back at my hotel room, why?”

“That way Q can talk to both of us.”

Andromeda looked at his ears but she couldn’t see the small earpiece provided by Q branch. She might have asked about it if not distracted by her friend.

Katherine greeted Andromeda warmly and shook Bond’s hand after being introduced. She ushered them back to her office and poured them each a glass of water. Bond accepted gratefully, remembering that he hadn’t eaten since late last night. After very briefly catching up, and promising to do more over dinner, Andromeda told her friend about London International Spy Adventures.  

Bond cut her off before she could tell too much of their past mission. “This mission is quite a bit different. Mostly watching someone and trying to make a path of what they do all day and some habits that they have. I am keeping watch on Mr. Thomas Kellinger.”

“The billionaire?” Katherine asked. Bond nodded. “I wouldn’t think he would want anyone stalking him.”

“His security team gave permission. It’s like a training exercise for them,” Bond explained.

“Like how you hire someone to hack a website you are trying to make secure,” Katherine said. “We had someone do that to make sure our credit card database was reasonably secure when we first opened.”

“Exactly,” Bond agreed. “I know that Kellinger comes here, but I was wondering if you had footage of their visit. I did notice you had cameras inside.”

“Well, I don’t want to release the tapes to you, but if you want I can show them to you so long as I stay in the room with you. If you just need a picture I can let you take a picture on your phone if no one else is in the shot.”

“I can hack into it from your phone if you plug in your phone to one of her computers,” Q said in his ear.

Bond reached into his pocket and turned off his phone. “That’s all I need. Thank you.”

“Follow me then.”

She walked them into another room. Bond told her that he believed the billionaire had been here on last Thursday and she confirmed that it was a weekly habit of his. He came in with enough others to fill a full team, but they always split their ranks. She sat at the computer and pulled up the folder from last Thursday. For how often they came in, she was surprised by how low they always scored.

“Wow, that is lower than yours,” Andromeda teased.

“Okay, here is a shot of when he enters. Why don’t you take a picture of that?”

Bond pulled out his phone. He tapped it a couple times and pressed some buttons. “Oh no, it’s dead.” He dug in his pocket for the cord. “You don’t mind if I plug this in quickly to charge, do you? Just enough to turn it on and take the picture?”

“No, not at all,” Katherine responded. Bond leaned down and plugged his phone into the computer. “I suppose we could watch their game and see how they manage to do so poorly.”

“I’m in,” Q reported. “I’ll keep the screen blank until they get suspicious.”

As they watched, a curious thing happened. The billionaire and his friends vanished. They played for not even a full minute before one by one they were gone from surveillance. Then they appeared again at the end of the game. Puzzled, Katherine pulled up the video from the previous week’s visit. Again the same thing. The week before that. Same thing.

“Now that is strange. Jane, did you have plans this evening? Or can you help me investigate?”

Jane smiled. “I’d love to help. I’m sure Silvereye can help as well. He is good at finding hiding places.”

Katherine started to ask about his name, but Bond’s phone lit up and buzzed, interrupting her. She instead returned to a clean shot of Mr. Kellinger and allowed Bond to take a quick picture. Then she told them to return at closing and they left to enjoy a lunch.


	2. Bait and Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn what is really going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bad, totally forgot last time, but Opal and Jaimi helped out with planning this story. Thanks friends.

Before lunch, they stopped at Andromeda’s hotel room to grab her bluetooth. Using Bond’s tech, Q is able to find her signal and connect her as well. “Good afternoon, Andromeda,” he greets. 

“Hello, Q. It’s nice to hear your voice again.”

“Likewise. There is a nice cafe nearby that I think you will both enjoy. I’ve sent the address to your phone.”

And with that, the two agents, one real and one pretend, enjoyed a relaxing lunch and stroll along the high street while Q did all the work of analysing the cctv footage. Although to be fair, he started some algorithms running and then left his office to take his own lunch break. 

Unfortunately, on his way back, Tanner waylaid him and pulled him into a logistics meeting that started in five minutes. He just had time to hand the mission to Terence in order to continue finding the men on the cctv footage and provide support if needed. 

As Terence was going through the footage, he noticed another group of suspicious people who also vanished from the footage. They didn't come on a regular schedule, but it sparked his suspicions nonetheless. 

He found a couple clear frames with their faces and added them into the database query. He got a hit on one of them just as Bond asked for Q in his headset. 

“Q is in a meeting at the moment, how can I help you, Silvereye?” he asked, using Bond’s cover name as Q has instructed. 

There was a pause. “Who are we speaking to?”

“This is A.” Terence used his old code name from his position at London International Spy Adventures. “I heard you were working with Andromeda again?”

“Hello, A,” Andromeda greeted. Her voice wasn’t as crisp, coming from an off the shelf bluetooth device as it was. 

Terence couldn’t believe he used to be amazed by how clear they sounded. Ever since he moved into Q branch, Terence was continually blown away by the technology available to him. “Good afternoon, Andromeda. How may I help you?”

“I was just checking in on what progress Q’s search has made,” Bond replied. “The arena closes in an hour.”

Terence doubled checked that nothing new had appeared while he was talking. “Nothing on the original group yet. Only Kellinger is recognised, but you knew that one. There is a potential that this place is being used as a dead drop, for what we don’t know.”

”I’ll find out,” Bond said. “It can’t be anything large. It didn’t look like they were bringing any large packages into the place or out of it afterwards.”

“And probably not just notes,” Andromeda added. “It doesn’t take that long to leave a note.”

“Did Q give an endtime of the meeting?” Bond asked. 

“No, but I can let him know when you are expected the return to the arena.” Terence took the click of the comm being turned off as a sign that he agreed. He would’ve asked Andromeda, but hers was connected to headquarters through Bond’s connection. He knew being hung up on was hardly more than a minor annoyance to Q, but once again, Terence was glad he did not run missions for the double-ohs. He opened up the internal messaging system.

_ One hour till laser tag closes. Don’t make me run it.  _

 

Terence was getting anxious, but Q swept back into the branch just before the top of the hour. “Send me what you’ve got. I’ll take it from here.” He flipped open his laptop at the front of the room and logged into the workstation computer. A keystroke later and he was connected to Bond and Andromeda again. “Q back on comms. Report,” he ordered while he pulled up the data from Terence. 

“Approaching the arena,” Bond said. “Any updates?”

“Possible dead drop zone. At least one of the receivers is on our watchlist. Find out what it is that is getting passed.”

“Copy that. Over and out.” Bond and Andromeda met Katherine at the door and she lead them straight to the back room. The last group was just finishing up.

As soon as they were done, the group of three walked in through a backdoor. Katherine flicked a switch to turn the overhead lights on. “I can show you the general area where I loose them from the security footage. Then Jane and I can return to the back and watch you so you know when you vanish from the screen.”

Bond asked them to turn the lights off again on their way out. Afterall, if the groups operated in the dark, maybe there was a clue left that would only be noticeable in blacklight, not in the fluorescents that were on when the employees came through at the end of the day. 

“Q? Private line?” Bond asked. 

“One moment. Yes. What do you need, Bond?”

“Did you find a blueprint of the building? Any possible hidden doorways that would be accessible from where I am?”

Q pulled up the schematics and overlaid Bond’s tracker on it. “There should be a doorway in front of you. Obviously I don’t have any cameras to help you out, so you are on your own.”

Bond looked at the painted wall in front of him. He could faintly hear Andromeda confirming that he was barely seen by the cameras now. It was mostly stars with purple and blue whisps of paint to simulate, well, he wasn’t sure exactly. Perhaps a galaxy. He tried pushing on the wall but nothing happened. Maybe this was the wrong place. Nothing looked like a door handle, lever, or secret contraption of any kind. 

Except, he crouched down, this spot. It was below the usual sightline and harder to notice, but there was actually an indentation in the wall and a well placed mirror that reflected a star on an opposite panel. 

Bond put his fingers inside and felt around. He found a latch. He pressed down and pulled to the left. The panel slid open. 

Bond walked through and slid it closed behind him. In the faint glow from the room, he could make out a set of wooden stairs going down. In a small room below the arena, there was a supply closet full of bags smelling of gunpowder. One shelf was dedicated to carefully labelled boxes of bullets. The shelf above hand small guns. Everything was small. But as he well knew, size was not everything. 

“Q, we have found a drop zone for weapons smuggling,” Bond reported. 

“Do you have your fingerprinting kit on you?” Q asked. When Bond replied in the negative, he sighed. “Well I shouldn’t have to tell you not to touch anything–” Bond returned the knife to the shelf “–and you can sneak in later with the kit.”

“Copy that. Watch the phone lines Q.”

Bond climbed the stairs and exited the arena to talk with the women. He told them that there was indeed a special compartment hidden in her arena and she should call the authorities. 

Immediately worried, she did so right away. It was a brief conversation in French but Bond followed most of it. Even so, she repeated it to them in English when she hung up. 

“They said they have been tracking suspicious activity in the area and have asked me to remain open in case they return.” She looked even more worried. “What if they find out that we know about them? I don’t want them to harm any of my guests. We have children who come here.”

“I’m sure they are placing extra guards nearby,” Andromeda reassured her friend. “They just can’t tell you those things. You are safe.”

Bond saw his opportunity. “Just to be safer, do you have an extra key that you could give to Jane? It’s hard to keep a place on lockdown if there is another person who has a key.”

Katherine immediately opened her desk drawer. “Yes, I have another for the days I need someone else to open up. Please take it. But you don’t think it would come to that, do you?”

They hastily reassured her that it would not. Bond suggested that they finish with this for the day and Jane and Katherine should go enjoy a relaxing dinner. He would get out of their hair. 


	3. An Agent Retires

A day passed without any incident. Thursday comes around and Bond hides in the secret compartment, having gotten there before it opened. With the fingerprints he had gotten Wednesday night, Q’s staff had identified nearly everyone involved in the smuggling operation. Mr. Kellinger himself was not shy about inspecting every object on these shelves. 

Bond wondered if he knew the people picking up the weapons and leaving behind the cash were on international terrorist lists. Q certainly suspected he did. The billionaire gave too many talks about supporting anti-terrorism for him to not have a personal stake in it somehow. 

And Bond figured if he didn’t really know, then this trade would be disguised in more typical ways, like through another business deal across seas. A few extra crates in a shipping container were rarely noticed. 

Bond glanced at his watch. Ten minutes till the first group of players were let into the arena. Although Kellinger and his team came every Thursday, there was some variation in what time they came. Presumably business meetings sometimes got in the way. 

Bond finished cleaning his gun and pressed himself against the wall to wait for his prey. 

At 1258 Bond heard the door slide open and footsteps approach. There was only one set, but he figured the others would be coming. He lifted the muzzle of his gun. The owner of the footsteps paused at the bottom, still hidden from Bond’s line of sight by a shelf. 

“Silvereye?” It was Andromeda. He wondered if she would leave when she didn’t see him. “I know you are down here.” Bond still didn’t say anything. “Or at least I thought you would be. I guess I can wait for you down here.”

Bond stepped out from behind the shelf. “Get over there and stay quiet,” he ordered. 

“I knew you had to be here.” She grinned even as Bond pushed her against the wall. “Katherine thought you went back to London, but I told her you wouldn’t have left this unsolved.”

“Hush.” Bond was not in the mood to play games. “We don’t know when the group might come down here, but the next team enters in a minute and this could be the one. If it is, don’t say anything, don’t move, do not let them know we are here. If they take the goods, that is preferred,” Bond lied. “There are police outside who I can contact if that is the case.”

Andromeda nodded her understanding. He resumed waiting in silence. 

At 1300 he heard a faint double click in his ear to signify that he had been transferred to a new handler. He wondered who it was.

At 1322 Bond once again heard the door slide open and footsteps approach. He shot a glance at Andromeda and she looked back. He could see that she was tense, but she would do as ordered. He wished more green agents listened as well as she did. He wondered when he started thinking of her as an agent. 

It was a man who came down the stairs. As expected, he was outfitted for laser tag. On the blue team. He immediately took off the backpack and unzipped his jacket. It was starting to become a bit chilly outside, but he doubted it was cold enough for a man of his build to need that jacket. 

The man reached into interior pockets and pulled out bags of something. The door above opened again and two more men came down. Also the blue team. They did not speak as they pulled items from their pockets and placed them on the shelves. Within the next minute, the rest of the group had come down. Mr. Kellinger and five of his men taking items from their pockets and putting them on the shelves. 

It wasn’t crowded in the room, but it was a miracle they hadn’t noticed the spies. 

The panel door slid open once more. Kellinger held up a hand for them all to freeze. 

This was interesting. Bond watched as one of the men took a gun from the shelf beside him and quietly loaded it. He hoped it was not Katherine. By Bond’s internal clock there was still another two minutes left in this round. 

The footsteps didn’t sound like hers. Too quiet and well balanced. 

A man dressed in the colours of the green team descended. “Who are you?” the man with the gun demanded harshly, weapon raised in warning. 

“Your client,” the other responded, unfazed by the gun. “I have been sent to deliver your last payment and instruct you to hold off on further deliveries.”

“Is the attack imminent?” Mr. Kellinger asked. “The original deal said that I would be informed of the plan.”

The man scoffed. He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. “The plan is that this is your last payment until you are needed again. If my boss deems it prudent, you will be informed about the location of the attack, but no one is allowed to know the time.” He tossed the cash into the group. “Finish depositing this delivery and don’t come back here.”

Only Bond saw the movement as the terrorist flicked his wrist and a small but deadly blade appeared in his hand. “I’ll be the last one out today,” he said. “We have exactly a minute left, so hurry up.”

Bond made a decision. “Actually I’ll be the last one out today,” he said. 

The others snapped their attention to the new voice. Bond pushed himself off from the wall and out of the shadow. 

Andromeda was having trouble believing what she was seeing. The man she knew as Silvereye had a deadly mien and some instinct told her this was no act. Perhaps it was the confidence in his voice as he confronted the terrorist and Mr. Kellinger’s people. 

”Put down the weapons and stand over there.” He motioned with his gun to the wall opposite the stairs. He slowly walked around like he was herding cattle. Two of the men complied immediately, perhaps they saw death in their future more clearly than the others. Or maybe it was the tone of Silvereye’s voice. It was the tone of a man who was used to being obeyed without question. 

“Just who do you think you are?” Mr. Kellinger demanded with all the authority of a man richer than many countries. 

“Someone who makes a habit out of stopping people like you,” he replied. 

“And I am someone who spits in the face of those like you.” The terrorist with the knife stepped forward in attack, but he was too slow for the agent. Without his gun wavering from the others, Silvereye reached out and disarmed the man, swiftly kicking him in the knee. A sharp crack, followed by a strangled yell, sent the man to the ground. The agent’s face showed no emotion. 

“We can do this my way, or the hard way,” Silvereye said. One more man tried to fight back, raising his gun, but again the agent was faster. A bullet to his arm stopped any further plans of rebellion. At a gesture, the rest laid down their weapons. 

The panel above them slid open again and a new group rushed down the stairs. They were not dressed for laser tag. 

“We will take them from here, agent,” the woman in the lead said. He merely nodded, watching as the handcuffs came out and the men were secured. 

“And this one over here?”

Andromeda yelped as she was tugged out from her hiding spot. She hadn’t noticed the officer come up beside her. 

“She’s with me,” Silvereye said. “I’ll escort her home.”

 

Bond stood guard as the other MI6 agents and French officials escorted their captives to the transport. He was sure he would see them again in interrogation since he was the agent who had brought them in. He wondered if there was a bet on which one of them would find something. There probably was. 003 would probably demand some of the spoils since he had dug through the rubbish bins. 

Maybe Bond could talk him into helping with the interrogation. It always left a bad taste in Bond’s mouth when he had to meet them on home soil. Home was for safety and he much prefered when targets were soundly beaten at the end of a mission. Too much chance for escape otherwise. 

“How did you know the police were coming?” Andromeda asked from next to him. She was clutching a water bottle from Katherine and he could see a tremble in her hands. 

He motioned to his ear. “They took care of that and kept me updated.”

She watched his face while he walked her back to her hotel room. It was a silent walk. Andromeda was focusing on calming her nerves and Bond was listening to Art keeping him updated on the transfer of the prisoners and the other weapons found in the storage. The recording device had also proved extra useful and they were able to identify another man from other terrorist videos from 2007. Not everyone in Kellinger’s group had wiped their record. 

“Silvereye?” Andromeda asked when they reached her hotel door. “Can you tell me your real name?”

Bond winked. “An agent never gives up his cover name.” He ignored the faint snort from Q branch. 

Andromeda was not smiling. “And that is the truth of it, isn’t it? This isn’t just a game for you; this is your job.”

Now Bond dropped his own smile. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Not if it would get you in trouble. But even on that last mission, things were too real. You shot someone today and didn’t flinch. We blew up an island for Christ’s sake!” She took a breath and ran a hand through her hair, tucking the loose strands back. It had come partially out of her ponytail. “No one has bluetooth earpieces like yours; I can’t even see it. And that boat on our last mission? Half of that technology had to come straight from a science fiction movie and you seemed to expect it. There is no way a small business for weekend fun would have that type of technology, let alone an old friend like you tried to tell me. Too many things don’t fit. And I wouldn’t be a good teacher if I couldn’t see through lies.”

Bond watched her, saying nothing. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

“I’ve read spy novels. I don’t want you to confirm that I’m right. That would likely lead to my own death and I would rather avoid that. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I guess we all say things we don’t mean to after stressful day.” She slid her keycard into the slot again and pushed down on the handle. “Good day, agent. It was a pleasure to work with you again, though I hope there will not be a third time.” She shut the door. 

Art didn’t know what to say. Bond didn’t know what he would say if asked. He walked down to the concierge desk. “My friend is in room 318 and I’d like to surprise her with a gift. Perhaps a trip to your spa room. Could you arrange that for me?” He took out his wallet. “She’s had a long day and could use it.”

“Of course,” the man replied. “Would you like to leave your name so she knows who it is from?”

“Silvereye. James Silvereye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if I have the character say she doesn't want to meet Bond again, she won't suddenly decide to be in another story. But who knows.


End file.
